My Last Breath
by Kyouryoku Senshi
Summary: Spoilers for "Ghouli". Scully finds William. Based on the trailers only...I know some isn't entirely accurate as I just saw new spoilers on 1/30, but some are close.


Title: My Last Breath

Author: KS

Rating: M

Summary: Spoilers for "Ghouli". Scully finds William. Based on the trailers only...I know some isn't entirely accurate as I just saw new spoilers on 1/30, but some are close.

A/N: As always, thanks to WildWingSuz for Beta-ing! The song title is based off a song from Evanescence, but I didn't want to distract readers with lyrics even if I feel it's super accurate to what's happening. Also, I try and write a lot of one shots in a way so they can be in the same universe as my other stories, because sometimes I just don't want to turn a one shot into a long story.

He couldn't control it, no matter how hard he tried. It had hurt people and he was responsible for it. He cried as he heard the screams of his adoptive parents, the Van De Kamps. He was on his knees, pressing his hands tightly to his ears, willing it to stop, but it wouldn't. The woman he shared these visions with he now knew was his mother, his biological mother. He had hurt her, though, with these visions he couldn't control. She was feeling and seeing them too and he couldn't control it. Not long ago she was in the hospital because of him, and had almost died. William knew she thought of him all the time and with those thoughts came unbearable pain and love. When he heard the Ghouli inside the house, he had gone and found the revolver he kept in its hiding place. She was close, his mother...the woman with long red hair and blue eyes he referred to in his blogs as Ginger. He needed to stop it though, before it killed them and there was only one way to do that.

Mulder and Scully kicked down the door of the residence the 'thing' had been sighted at. Reports had documented a young, teenaged boy, tall and slender, with dark hair that always seemed to be in the same place as the Ghouli. He was identified as Jackson Van De Kamp. That name, the one that Jeffery Spender had spoken to her of, had triggered her visions. The image of the boy that was in those reports. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she held her gun out in front of her while surveying her surroundings and was struck with an instant sense of deja vu. "Mulder, this is the same house...the one I saw in my visions."

When he didn't respond, she followed in the direction of his footsteps until she saw where he had come to a complete stand still.

She gasped and while not letting go of her gun, she knelt down to two dead bodies in front of her. One was a man and one was a woman, both of which appeared to be middle aged, face down onto the floor of the living room that was eerily familiar to her. With her free hand, she reached out and checked the vital signs of the man, nothing. She looked over at Mulder who was checking the woman. He looked back at her and shook his head to indicate he hadn't found a pulse. Both of them had similar injuries, slashes across their bodies to which she could see they had quickly bled out from. Before she could say anything, however, they both heard the piercing sound of a gunshot. Scully felt as if her mind was spinning, yet they both jumped to their feet. Mulder was on her heels as she made her way into the direction of the sound, gun at the ready. The sound of her heartbeat filled her eardrums as she came into another living area. What she saw next made her legs feel so heavy she nearly collapsed. It was the boy that was in the reports. A teenager who couldn't have been older than 17, dark haired and lanky. Her blood ran cold and she felt as if her heart was ripped from her chest. In the boy's left hand was a revolver and she could see the exit wound of the gunshot on the left side of his head. She dropped to her knees and started breathing heavily. She couldn't recall even dropping her gun to her side or Mulder's footsteps behind her. The only thing she knew was that the one simple truth she had longed for answers to was now laying in front of her, dead. She slowly reached out with her right hand and touched the boy's cheek. It was still warm. She couldn't recall if it was seconds or minutes that had passed, but the one thing that stood out to her was that he looked so much like Mulder. And she knew without fail that it was him. This was her baby and he was dead. She started shaking uncontrollably and sobbing violently. Scully was only vaguely aware of Mulder grabbing onto her when she started to scream. "Nooooooo!" She shrieked, pounding the wooden flooring.

Scully had no recollection of Mulder dialing 911 until she heard sirens in the distance. That must have been some time later. She felt numb, but was still vaguely aware of Mulder rocking her and gently moving the hair back from her tear stained face. Was he grieving too? Why did William do this?

Moments later, the home swarmed with police and EMT. Mulder had to force her away as the bodies were put into body bags. She didn't have a DNA test, but she knew it was William. Somehow Mulder managed to pull her to her feet and to the outside of the house. Scully ignored the crowds gathering and all the emergency personnel. Mulder held her tightly, while using his free hand to rub warmth back into her body.

He wanted to grieve for a son he hadn't known since he was a few days old. He often asked himself over the years if it all even really happened. If Scully wasn't there to remind him, he might have been able to convince himself that it was all a horrible dream. He wasn't sure at times if he was spared the same amount of pain from not knowing his son as well as Scully had through their psychic connection He felt Scully move her hands to the top of his arms and finally, he heard her speak. "I failed him, Mulder," she said and started sobbing. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to say or how to comfort Scully. All he knew was that if that boy really was their son, he was clearly dealing with a lot of emotional baggage. The possibility of the adoption being a mistake wasn't something they ever wanted to face. Mulder turned Scully back towards his chest as he saw the gurneys being wheeled out.

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity before Scully pulled back as she saw Skinner pull up. She wiped away the stray tears. "I'm going back inside."

Mulder looked at her, his face full of worry. "No, Scully. Don't do this to yourself, please."

"I'm not asking, Mulder," she said tersely before she turned on her heels and went back inside. Mulder sighed. His chest was heavy with sadness, but he had to be strong for her. He knew it was her way of dealing with things, but this was too personal.

Scully found her way back into the house and with the details memorized from her dreams, she found what she was sure was William's bedroom. In her vision, she had been sleeping here and she was woken by William lurking around in the shadows. To what end must he have been suffering in order to take his own life? She took a deep breath and sat in the desk near his bed. She opened the laptop in front of her and waited for it to boot up. She looked around the room...which was oddly neat. That definitely was not a Mulder trait, she thought with a sad smile as she compared the mess in the unremarkable house.

She came across various photos, most of family...the Van De Kamps. In a scattered pile underneath one of the framed photos were some older photos. Baby photos. She sighed and flipped through them. There were no dates on the back, but she was trying to mentally compare the boy in these photos to her memories.

That was when she remembered. She fished out her badge in the pocked of her coat and removed the baby picture hidden behind her ID. It was one of the few pictures she kept around...the rest were in the attic of Mulder's house. The memories were too painful to relive. She compared it with some of the smiling image she looked through, though she didn't need it to know this was the same baby she had given away all those years ago.

In her mind, William still existed as a baby and it was difficult for her to imagine him so close to being an adult. Now her memories would remain of him on that floor, with that gun in his hand. The tears came flooding back and fell onto the photos she held in her hands.

She couldn't do it right now. She looked around, knowing it wouldn't be long before investigators flooded the room and tucked away the images for safe keeping.

Scully turned back towards the computer, which thankfully was only in rest mode and no password was required. A familiar webpage popped up on the screen...it was the Ghouli blog. She looked closely and it appeared to be in editing mode and the she could see the username Rever the logged in user. She felt her pulse quicken at the implication, but she was startled by the approaching footsteps. Mulder appeared in the doorway and she sighed.

"Scully, we need to go," he said, though the computer screen piqued his interest. She closed the laptop and threw it underneath her coat. "Scully, that's..." He stopped when the look on her face dared him to argue with her. "Mulder, I don't need to remind you that you've done this before."

He sighed and looked behind him. "Let's go."

Scully knew any evidence of her son would be destroyed by forces beyond their knowledge. She would be damned if she was going to let anyone bury him without those answers.

Using the laptop they confiscated, they went to a nearby cafe. Scully watched as Mulder opened it. They were due at the morgue shortly, but in the meantime they could still search for answers. "Mulder, I believe William is Rever...and I think he created the Ghouli, even though he might not have had 100% control over what's happening."

Mulder looked at his coffee which had the name 'Bob' on it once again and took another sip. "There are a lot of different sightings here, Scully."

She nodded. "I know, I thought it was just fan fiction at first, but one of those entries clearly describes the vision I had on that bridge, Mulder."

They both read a few more of the various entries they had skimmed over before. Scully was heartbroken to learn that William had been through a variety of tests since he was six years old. She was working at the hospital then and both she and Mulder were living at the house. If only she knew-she could have sought him out sooner. She wanted to so badly, but she thought she had done what was best for him. The words from the entry "The Screaming Skull" stood out most to her.

"Two or three concussions. I've fallen when there's been no one to catch me. Does she have someone to hold her hand, to break her fall? I hope she's safe and cared for. She shouldn't suffer more pain than I've endured myself. I want her to hear me, but I don't want her to hurt, not because of my uncontrollable screaming skull."

William was describing the seizures he was having as a result of his transmissions, he was experiencing the same things. Those last few lines, indicating he hoped she was safe and cared for caused a lump to form in her throat. He didn't resent her. Mulder looked over at her and clasped her hand when he noticed she was on the verge of tears once more. The Mobius Strip Tease entry described the vision she had the other day. Wandering in circles, with a tall dark figure in the shadows. William saw her? Why she didn't see him?

Her mind was racing as she watched Mulder read through. "Ginger," he said simply, giving her a knowing look. "A redhead with a crucifix. It sounds like he's talking about you, Scully."

Scully wiped away her tears. She could almost laugh at the fact that William went from talking about the five basic steps of the scientific method to talking about monsters in the dark. He was the perfect blend of them both and now she would never get to know him. "I need answers, Mulder. I need to be sure." Mulder knew she was referring to the DNA test.

Scully reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the photos she had confiscated. Mulder looked down into her hands and watched her as she started to look through them.

"I assume these are photos of him much younger, some of these newborn and toddler photos look a lot like how I remember him," she explained. She reached into the opposite side of her coat and pulled out her badge, she pulled a very familiar photo out of the pocket behind her ID.

"Scully," he started.

"I often look at this photo. I know we have others in the attic of the house, but this is the only one I've really kept on me. Not only because it's hard to look at, but for anonymity's sake."

Mulder knew she was referring to the fact that they kept their son private and didn't discuss him with anyone else, except one another on rare occasions.

It was hard sometimes, especially since they were both in their 50's. They often got asked if they had any children and usually ended up tongue tied. They usually said a simple no to avoid further questioning, but it often resulted in preconceived judgements. People assumed they must have been too selfish and focused on their careers or maybe they didn't meet the right people. It was a painful subject. Even in this day and age, people still assumed most people in their 50's had kids.

Mulder sighed. "Remember when you asked if I thought about him, Scully? I actually have that same photo." Mulder couldn't bear to look at any of the albums Scully kept, not on his own. It was something they had to do together someday.

Scully looked up at him and looked as if she were thinking of how to respond, but couldn't find the words. He continued with the question that had been on his mind that night.

"Why would he bring you here just to watch him die?" Mulder asked.

Before Scully could respond, Mulder's phone distracted them from their thoughts. Scully was lost in thought as Mulder answered, said a few words and then hung up. "That was Skinner, the bodies are at the morgue," he said carefully. "We should go." Scully nodded. She wasn't sure what she hoped for. Part of her was certain this was William and the other part of her didn't want it to be him, because that meant he really was gone. She needed to rely on science for those answers.

A little while later, they had arrived and Scully had gone ahead of Mulder, but not before he insisted if she was ready to do this. "I'll be fine, Mulder," she lied and he knew it. The DNA test had to be done and she had to be the one to do it. She took a deep breath and entered the morgue. At the corner of her eye, she could see the body bag resting on the metal slab in the middle of the room, but couldn't look for fear she might have turned and run back out the door. Taking a deep breath, she slipped on some latex gloves and slowly made her way towards the bag. She swallowed the lump down in her throat and slowly started to pull the zipper back. She couldn't get far though before she crumbled. She looked at the unmoving dark haired boy and took a seat on the stool. "I don't...know...if you are who I think you are. If you are, I'm so sorry that I didn't get a chance to know you or you to know me... and your father," her voice broke as she let out a sob. "And I'm so sorry that I failed you," she couldn't stop the tears from coming. She was startled by a movement in the corner and quickly turned to see Mulder standing by the door. She had no idea how long he had been standing there since she hadn't heard the door open, but she was certain he'd probably heard enough.

When she made eye contact with him, he quickly crossed the room and as if he were reading her mind and sensing the tremendous guilt she felt, he said "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She stood up and reached for him and he pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently. "He looks like you, Mulder," was all she could choke out. "Oh God," she sobbed. "He looks so much like you. Why did he have to be taken from us?"

Mulder couldn't look at the body. His eyes had glanced in that general direction, but he knew if he caught a glimpse of the boy they thought to be their son, he'd lose it too. And he knew that if he did, it would only add another layer of guilt to Scully's shoulders. She didn't need that right now. So instead, he just let her have his shoulder to cry on for as long as she needed, while once again bottling up the pain of losing the child he was stripped of knowing.

The End


End file.
